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1 he Great Pound Wor 


Natural History 
Stories. 


A Series oe True Stories 


BY 

JULIA TRUITT BISHOP 


I. 



Part I 


NEW YORK 

WILLIAM BEVERLEY HARISON 

3 and 5 West i8th Street 
1897 





Copyright 1897 

BY 

WILLIAM BEVERLEY HARISON 


PREFACE 


J'HE stories published in this little volume have 
been issued from time to time in the Philadel¬ 
phia “Times, and it is at the request of many 
readers that they now greet the world in more en¬ 
during form. They have been written as occasion 
suggested , during several years; and they com¬ 
memorate to me many of the friends l have known 
and loved in the animal world. “ Shep ” and 
“Dr. Jim/’ “Abdallah” and “Brownie/’ 
“Little Dryad” and “ Peek-a-Boo,” l have been 
fast friends with every one, and have watched them 
with such loving interest that I know all their 
ways and can almost read their thoughts. I send 
them on to other lovers of dumb animals, hoping 
that the stories of these friends of mine will carry 
pleasure to young and old. 


THE AUTHOR. 



































CONTENTS PART I. 


PAGE 

Juno .3 

Dr. Jim ....... 19 

Our Tiger.32 

Shep.41 

Muff.^3 

Sam ........ 62 

Peek-a-Boo.72 

Little Dryad.81 

Clem . 92 

Only a Mole.113 

Horned Frog.122 

Zip 

Cleopatra 


142 















JUNO. 


UNO was the cat. We 
all knew perfectly well 
that there never had 
been such a cat as Juno. 
Not that she was so 
fine-looking, or so expen¬ 
sive. She would never have taken a prize 
at a cat show, unless it might have been 
the booby prize. She was the very plain¬ 
est kind of a brindled cat, and she wan¬ 
dered into our house from the street during 










4 


THE GREAT ROUND IVORLD 


her early kittenhood and calmly established 
herself in mothers work-basket. 

From that time on Juno had been the 
friend and playmate of the younger gener¬ 
ation. She never seemed like an animal 
to any of us. Many a time I have heard 
Ned apologize for having unintentionally 
hurt Juno, with the exclamation: 

“ Oh, excuse me, Juno, I didn’t mean to 
do that!” 

After which Juno always purred softly, 
and showed that she had forgiven him. 

But the one thing that specially distin¬ 
guished Juno from all the other cats that 
I ever knew, was her big-hearted mother¬ 
hood. If Juno had been a woman, how 
many desolate orphans she would have 
cared for! She would have given them 
summer outings, no doubt, and would have 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


5 


filled their stockings brimful at Christinas 
time. 

Not being a woman, Juno did her best, 
nevertheless, to make the world a little 
easier for all the orphans she knew. What 
a heart must have beaten under that gray 
fur! Ned and I often talked of it, and 
were filled with regret that Juno could 
not understand our language so that we 
could talk to her and get her views on the 
subject. 

There was the time when she adopted 
the chicken, for instance. We knew Juno 
so well that we felt perfectly certain how 
she looked at those things, and so when 
the old yellow hen declined to acknowl¬ 
edge the little black chicken as hers, and 
pecked its head whenever it went near 
her, we took the helpless and disowned 


6 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


orphan and put it in Juno’s bed, between 
the two kittens. 

“There, Juno,” said Ned, by way of ex¬ 
planation to her look of astonishment, 
“ there’s a child that’s been deserted by 
its unfeeling mother; I wish you’d look 
after it.” 

And Juno took the chicken and held it 
with one paw while she licked it all over, 
though I am not sure that she liked the 
taste of the soft down that covered the 
little stranger. She kept the chicken all 
that night and every night afterwards until 
it considered itself big enough to go alone. 

How we used to laugh to see Juno 
walking about the yard with her foster- 
child chirping after her, or to see the 
chicken run to her and insist on being 
hovered ! 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


7 



As time passed the adopted child be¬ 
came independent and needed no 
further guardianship, yet the 
friendliest relations existed 
between the two. 

Even after the 
chicken 

^ nr 


was 

grown and had 
chickens of her own 
they seldom met in their 
promenades about the place that Juno 
did not pause to rub her head affection- 


O' 
















8 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


ately against the neck of the orphan that 

she had brought up. 

* * * 

Juno was about a year older, I think, 
when there was a death in her family. 
The one little kitten that she loved with 
all her mother heart died and left her 
desolate. It was a very sad occasion, I 
remember, but we had a great funeral. 
We dug the grave at the end of the gar¬ 
den. Johnny’s express wagon was the 
hearse, and Johnny drew it, and was very 
serious indeed. We borrowed Mrs. Mar¬ 
tin’s baby carriage, and that was the 

4 

mourning coach. Juno rode in it, with 
Ned and Gimps walking one on each side 
and holding her in. I pushed the coach, 
while a long procession of the neighbors’ 
children came behind, crying with all their 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


9 


might. We sung a hymn at the grave, 
and did everything we could to soothe 
Juno’s grief. 

But Juno would not be reconciled. She 
drooped around and mewed so pitifully 
for several days that we could not endure 
it; so we went to a neighbor’s cat that 
had more kittens than she needed, and 
borrowed one of them for Juno. Dear 
me, how proud she was of it, and how 
she took it in her arms and cuddled it 
up close to her! The whole family came 
out to look at her, and the Colonel said: 

“ And this is only a cat! What great ten¬ 
derness there should be in the human heart 
when a poor little animal can be like this !” 

And the next day Uncle Dick, who 
was a great favorite with all of us, rode 
up to the fence and shouted cheerily: 


w 


THE GREAT ROUND IVORLD 


“Hello, boys! Here is a present for 
you. I killed a mother fox at the mouth 
of her hole, and here is one of her 
babies.” 

And he reached down into his pocket 
and drew out a baby fox about as large 
as an interrogation point, but the funniest 
and sharpest little thing you ever saw, 
though its eyes were not open yet. 

With one accord we shouted : 

“There’s a baby for Juno!” and away 
we ran with it and laid it beside the new 
kitten. 

Juno arose and looked the little stran¬ 
ger over with evident anxiety. She seemed 
to be troubled with some haunting suspi¬ 
cion that this was not an orthodox cat. 
The bushy red tail was a special subject 
of curiosity. She touched it up with her 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


11 


paw and looked at it with her head on 
one side. 

For several dreadful minutes we were 
afraid that Juno was going to leave an 
orphan on our hands ; but we did not know 
her, after all. In a few moments she 
reached the conclusion that the fox was 
probably a cat of some new and interest¬ 
ing kind, and she lay down again, purring 
softly, and took the little stranger to her 
heart. 

Such a pair as those two did make! 
We named the fox Flash, and he was 
the pride and the delight of the family. 
In a few days after his adoption Juno 
came to look on him as quite the most 
beautiful creature she had ever seen, and 
she showed a decided partiality for him. 
When she moved her family from the 


12 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


stable to mothers room, which she did 
systematically every morning, she always 
carried Flash in first and laid him on the 
rug with an air of pride impossible to 
describe. 

“No, no, Juno,” mother would say, “he 
is very pretty, but 1 can’t have him here.” 

But Juno would run back after the 
kitten, and, having toiled upstairs with it, 
would lay it on the rug also and lie 
down beside it, as though she would say: 

“I’d like to see you move me now!” 

Within a month Flash could run every¬ 
where, and he was the brightest, the 
sharpest, the merriest little fellow that 
ever kept a respectable cat in trouble 
with his escapades. That sharp nose of 
his was everywhere at once, it seemed to 
me, and those bright eyes were peering 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


O 


into every corner in search of mischief. 
He trotted about the house with a swag¬ 
gering impudence, and went to bed in one 
of the Colonel’s shoes if he liked, or 
played hide and seek in father’s hat when 
he found it convenient. 

As for the life he led poor Juno, we 
often wondered why she did not turn 
grayer than ever, having to deal with 

this graceless young 
reprobate. If he 



found her trying to sleep a little, he would 
bite her ears and pull at her tail, bracing 
himself back on all four of his absurd lit¬ 
tle feet, and sometimes tumbling over in 
his excitement ; and he rolled over her and 









THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


14 

growled and worried her until she must 
have been almost on the verge of insomnia! 
Yet she never boxed his ears once, much 
as he deserved it. 

As the kitten grew older and able to 
take part in the play, what romps the three 
used to have! How many times I have 
seen them rushing through the house in 
wild pursuit of one another, making as 
much noise as a drove of horses, mother 
said, with the fox in the lead, and the cats 
chasing him, and all the children running 
to look. 

But their favorite playground was in the 
yard, where the fountain was, with its big 
circular basin. Around and around this 
basin they flew, and Flash always gained 
on his pursuers until he came up with 
them, vaulted over them, and was in front 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


again, slipping out of sight like a spirit. 
I suppose most animals enjoy themselves, 
but I am sure I never saw animals have 
a better time than Juno and those two 
children of hers. 

And the good times went on without 
diminution for many a day. Flash grew 
to be almost as large as his mother, but 
if he ever realized that he was not a cat 
we never knew it. He was as familiar in 
the house as though he owned it. When 

Ned and I were going to bed in the dark 

» 

one night, and put out our hands to turn 
down the bedclothes, we touched something 
soft and furry, and we had both tumbled 
half-way down the stairs before we real¬ 
ized that Juno and Flash had gone to 
sleep in our bed. 

And all the time how Juno loved the 


16 THE GREAT ROUND IVORLD 

fox! She scarcely ever came near him 
without stopping to rub her head against 
him affectionately, or to lick his sharp little 
ears. She never did grow indifferent to 
this child of the forest that she had raised 
as her own. Perhaps it would have been 
better if she had not cared so much. 

One day a strange dog slipped in at 
the gate while some one was passing out. 
The fox had never been hurt in his life, 
and he felt no fear of anything. He 
trotted up to the dog with his inquisitive 
nose in the air, and before any one could 
speak or move, the dog had seized him 
and was shaking the life out of him. 

I never shall forget how we ran from 
the sight of it, when the dog was beaten 
away. But when we stole back after 
a while, Juno was with Flash, and was lick- 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


'7 


ing his face and trying her best to help 
him. Even the Colonel could not bear to 
see her, but went away and shut himself up. 

As for poor Flash, his day was done, 
and the merry little heart was still. And 
a few hours later there was another grave 
at the foot of the garden. 

We tried very hard after that to make 
Juno forget her loss, but she would not 
forget. She missed the child that she had 
loved so tenderly, and broke away from 
our caresses to go mewing from room to 
room, or to sit by the fountain, filling the 
air with disconsolate wails. She would not 
touch the food we offered her, though 
we saved her the most tempting morsels. 

Of course this could not go on long. 
One night, a week after the death of 
Flash, Juno stretched herself out on the 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


18 

rug and died as quietly as though she had 
fallen to sleep; and we all cried as though 
our hearts would break. 

“ And this is only a cat,” said the 
Colonel. “ Think what human grief must 
be when a mere animal could grieve like 
this! ” 


bR. JIM. 


O U will think, of course, that 
Dr. Jim was a dignified gentle¬ 
man, with spectacles, perhaps, 
and with a little morocco case 
in his inside pocket containing a thermom¬ 
eter and hypodermic syringe. But you 
will be very much mistaken. Dr. Jim was 
not a gentleman at all. He was merely 
a cat—a big white cat—whose wise and 
dignified bearing had won him the title 
of Doctor. 

We never knew anything about Dr. Jim’s 
early history. It was doubtless filled with 





20 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


rough experiences, for when we saw him 
first he did not look like a favorite of for¬ 
tune. He came to our door one cold night 
in November, and set up a plaintive mew¬ 
ing, which could not be resisted. We 
opened the door and invited the wanderer 
in. “ Aunt Patsy,” the colored cook, in¬ 
dignantly denounced him as a “ gutter¬ 
snipe,” and commanded him to “ take his 
ugly curkiss offen dissher kyarpet,” but the 
Colonel expostulated mildly. 

“ Let him stay till he gets warm, Aunt 
Patsy,” he said, coaxingly, “ and then may¬ 
be he’ll want to go.” 

The dear old Colonel ! I can see him 
yet, as he bent over the unfortunate stray, 
taking an inventory of his wounds and 
bruises. Times had been going hard with 
this cat, for he was covered with the marks 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


21 


of conflict; one eye was swollen shut, giv¬ 
ing him an extremely grotesque appear¬ 
ance, and somebody had evidently made 
an attempt to cut off his tail, which was 
wounded and bleeding. Add to this that 
he was draggled, wet, and dirty, and you 
may imagine how disreputable he looked. 

“ And yet, poor fellow,” said the Colonel, 
tenderly, “ perhaps he may be a great deal 
better than he looks. Let’s give him a 
chance to start again.” 

That was just like the Colonel. He wa^ 
always saying that about people. When¬ 
ever he found a poor fellow that was in a 
regular bad fix, with everybody down on 
him, he would say: “ Maybe if he could 
start over again he would do better.” And 
so he helped him start over again ; and I 
could show you dozens of them that are 


22 


THE GREAT ROUND IVORLD 


good people now, and some of them rich. 
It helps people sometimes to get a new 
start ; remember that, Eight O’Clockers. 

So the cat sat on the rug and used his 
tongue to wash the rain and mud from 
his white fur, and after a while, when he 
was quite dry and clean, he walked delib¬ 
erately across the floor, jumped up on the 
Colonel’s knee, turned himself around a 
time or two to find a good place, and then 
quietly curled himself down and went to 
sleep, as though it had been all understood 
beforehand. Maybe it was, sure enough, 
for I never did see anybody that could 
get along with dumb animals as the Colonel 
could. 

Of course, we all knew that settled it 
about the cat—it was going to stay. 

We named the newcomer Jim that night, 



NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


23 


when he was muddy and rough-looking. 
The next day he was so clean and digni¬ 
fied that we added the title, because brother 
Ned insisted that Jim resembled old Dr. 
White, who was so neat and prim, and who 
could never be persuaded to laugh under 
any circumstances. 

So his past was all blotted out. He 
had “started over again,” as the Colonel 
said, and from that time on he was Dr. Jim. 

And then began one of the most singu¬ 
lar friendships I have ever seen. The 
Colonel, dear old iron-gray philosopher, 
remarked with emotion that cats were usu¬ 
ally suspected of being treacherous, but 
that this one was evidently warm-hearted 
and capable of the tenderest gratitude. 
The Colonel himself, you see, was rather 
peculiar. Aunt Patsy said he was “sot 


24 


THE GREAT ROUND IVORLD 


in his ways”; and Cousin Richard said the 
Colonel might fall heir to millions, but 
he would die a poor man. But the people 
he helped ! That was what I judged him 
by. I was young then, and would rather 
have been this soft-hearted Colonel, with 
his simple ways, than a great and success¬ 
ful man like Cousin Richard, who helped 
no one except in big charities that were 
published in all the papers. 

We used to laugh when we would see 
the Colonel and Dr. Jim walking about 
the yard and the garden; for whenever the 
Colonel would start, Dr. Jim would follow 
and beg so earnestly to be carried that 
the Colonel would take him up in his arms, 
where he would lie, purring contentedly, 
and softly spreading and closing his velvet 
paws. 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


^5 


This was the extent of his outings. He 
sometimes walked down to the gate and 



lay the great world that had used him so 
roughly. He preferred the safe asylum 
within, and the friend that had been will- 








26 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


ing to give him another chance for re¬ 
spectability. 

But it was when the Colonel retired to 
his study and devoted himself to the great 
book on “ The Old South,” which, he al¬ 
ways flattered himself, he would finish 
some day, that Dr. Jim was at his best. 
Then it was that he sat down among the 
papers and watched the gliding pen with 
the eye of a critic, turning his head to 
one side sometimes with a puzzled look, 
as though he failed to catch the writer’s 
meaning. 

When he was tired he curled himself up 
on the last page of the Colonel’s manu¬ 
script and went calmly to sleep. When 
he awoke he sometimes mounted upon his 
friend’s shoulder, and sat there, curling his 
tail around the Colonel’s neck. When the 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


27 


tip of the tail made its appearance under 
the writers chin, Dr. Jim always failed to 
recognize it as his own property, and was 
deceived into grabbing after it. 

This was undignified, of course, but 
even in his undignified moments he was 
master of himself. Sometimes, when he 
thought the writing had gone on long 
enough, Dr. Jim calmly reached down, 
caught the pen-handle with his teeth, and 
pulled it away. And to show you what 
a perfect understanding there was between 
the two, I have often heard the Colonel 
remark on such occasions : 

“Oh, well, Dr. Jim, no doubt you are 
right. I will put my work away for this 
time.” 

Dr. Jim always tolerated Aunt Patsy. 
He did not love her, but he managed to 


28 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


endure her. There, however, his forbear¬ 
ance stopped. He hated negroes with all 
his heart. Whenever the gate-latch clicked, 
Dr. Jim rushed to the window and looked 
out. If the newcomer were a white per¬ 
son, he yawned and went back to his place 
on the rug ; but if it were a negro, away 
went Dr. Jim, a mere streak of white cat, 
and crawled under some sofa or into some 
other safe retreat, from which came sounds 
of growling and spitting until the negro 
had departed. 

It was evident that Dr. Jim would min¬ 
gle with none but the best society. His 
tastes were all refined, and he held him¬ 
self aloof from people that he considered 
his inferiors. 

We all laughed one day when an old 
lady, who believed in making everything 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


29 


useful, asked us if Dr. Jim was a good 
“mouser.” During all the time that he 
was with us, Dr. Jim caught but one 
mouse, and it ran under his very nose, 
so that he could not well help himself. 
With an air of pleased surprise he showed 
it to the Colonel. Then he laid it down 
on the lawn, and airily touched it up with 
one paw, turning his head from side to 
side coquettishly. 

After a while he turned his back to his 
captive, and sat down and washed his face 
with a look of great absorption. When 
he looked for the mouse again, there 
was no mouse to be seen. Dr. Jim’s first 
and last effort to commit murder had 
failed. 

One of Dr. Jim’s striking qualities was 
his honesty. The butcher’s boy was in 


30 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


the habit of leaving the steak on the kitch¬ 
en table if no one was in. Now it was 
well known in the family that Dr. Jim 
had a weakness for steak ; yet how many 
times have we found him standing on the 
table, anxiously rubbing his head against 
the edge of the paper in which the meat 
was wrapped, but never offering to take 
it without leave. 

“He has a conscience, this cat!” was 
what the Colonel always said of him, and 
what we always devoutly believed. 

For six long years Dr. Jim was an in¬ 
mate of our family. Those years had left 
the dear old Colonel older, and grayer, and 
more bent. Sorrow had touched the loyal 
heart, and dimmed the kindly eyes. And 
when, one day, Dr. Jim stretched himself 
out among the papers on the study-table 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


V 


and died there, we younger ones walked 
on tiptoe and spoke in whispers. 

When the Colonel came out, after a 
while, two tears were rolling down his 
cheeks, but he smiled upon me kindly. 

“Ah, my dear,” he said, “when people 
are young, friendships are so plentiful ; but 
when one gets old, and begins going down 
into the shadows, one misses every friend, 
even though it be only a cat.” 






OUR TIGER 

WHICH WAS NOT A TIGER AT ALL, BUT A 
LITTLE DOMESTICATED WILDCAT 



? T was my good fortune, in the 
first place, to become very 
well acquainted with Tigers 
mother. I cannot say that 
the acquaintance was a pleas¬ 
ant one, but it taught me some of the 
wonders of animal instinct, which I have 
often been tempted to call reason, so much 
was it like that higher and nobler faculty. 

Some wild animal had been making sad 
havoc among the chickens and turkeys ; 







NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


33 


not only invading the hen-roost at night, 
but even capturing full-grown fowls by day 
as they wandered about their usual feed- 
ing grounds in the woods. After several 
days’ search we found the tracks of a wild¬ 
cat in the moist earth suspiciously near to 
the scattered feathers of a fine “ Plymouth 
Rock,” and that settled the question. 

“You must get some dogs and go hunt¬ 
ing for him, Dallas,” said my mother, and, 
in accordance with that request, I roamed 
over that whole section for days and days 
afterward, looking for the wildcat that had 
so great a fancy for my mother’s fowls. 
I had begun to think that I had frightened 
him out of the country, when, one night, 
a young pig was stolen from the pen, 
and there, close at hand, were the tracks 
again. 


34 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


And this time the dog, which I had bor¬ 
rowed for the occasion, “ struck the trail ” 
without any difficulty, and away we went 
down toward the river bottom. And such 
a chase ! Twenty times I thought the dog 
must be within sight of the wildcat, so 
eager was the baying that rung through 
the woods, and yet he lost his quarry at 
last in the most unaccountable manner. 

I was not so well versed in woodland 
lore then as I am now, and was puzzled 
beyond expression until the next day. It 
happened then that I was out on a squir¬ 
rel hunt alone, when I heard in the distance 
the excited bark of my “borrowed” dog, 
and realized instantly that he was out on 
a hunt on his own account. I was won¬ 
dering what he was trailing, when I per¬ 
ceived that both he and his game were 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


3b 


heading straight in my direction, and I hid 
behind the upturned root of a fallen tree, 
hoping to get a shot at the animal, what¬ 
ever it might be. 

In a minute or two it came, getting over 
the earth in long bounds—a huge wildcat, 
the largest I had ever seen. But before I 
could get my gun to my shoulder, the cat 
leaped upon the very log beside which I 
was standing, and ran back and forth along 
its entire length several times in succession. 
I was so puzzled that I forgot to fire. If 
a wildcat could be supposed to have lost 
its mind, that must certainly be the condi¬ 
tion of this one, was what I thought. 

Suddenly it jumped from the log to a 
tangle of grapevines that slanted from the 
ground to a tree near at hand, and running 
up the vines and into the tree, it leaped 


36 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 

from that tree to another, and then on to 
another, finally disappearing altogether. 

The dog came on, making the woods 
resound with his keen yelp, and kept the 
trail in fine style until he reached the log. 
There he lost it completely and I saw 
what the wildcat had meant. It had laid its 
plans of escape with as much judgment as 
though it had been gifted with reason, and I 
had too much respect for the marauder to 
have killed it if I had had the opportunity. 

But the cat was killed by other hands 
than mine. Uncle Ben, the colored Nim¬ 
rod of the place, killed her one day at the 
mouth of the hollow log in which she made 
her home, and he brought us one of the 
young ones, a fierce little fellow, all claws 
and teeth, apparently. We were delighted 
with the newcomer, and we named him 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


31 


“Tiger,” and made much of him and 
petted him without delay. 

For a long time Tiger was a most vicious 
and unmanageable little wretch, and when¬ 
ever we came near him he would arch his 
back, throw his mouth wide open, and 
“ spit ” and claw as though his life de¬ 
pended on it; but after a while kindness 
had its effect upon him. The time came 
when he would spring upon my mothers 
lap, push her work or her book out of the 
way, curl himself up and go to sleep as 
calmly as any petted household kitten. 

As for Uncle Ben, Tiger always hated 
him most cordially. Perhaps he remem¬ 
bered that he owed his orphanage and cap¬ 
tivity to the old negro. At any rate, he 
was never reconciled to him, and was never 
so happy as when he could hide beneath 


38 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 



a table-cover or under the steps, and could 
throw out a swift and stealthy paw and 
scratch Uncle Ben’s ankles as he 
passed. 

But it was not Uncle 
Ben that got Tiger into 
trouble at last; it was his 


own “cuteness.” We had al¬ 
ways fed him at the mouth of an 
old unused dog-kennel out in the yard. 
For a long time the chickens crowded 




















NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


39 


around him at every meal and helped 
him eat, in spite of his growling; but 
one day, by some means, Tiger dis¬ 
covered that chickens were quite palatable. 
Two or three days in succession Uncle 
Ben came in and announced that “ dat 
ornary rep-tile out yander done kilt anud- 
der chicken, Miss Sallie.” 

And then the next day I saw a strange 
sight. I had just fed Tiger, and had 
paused a little distance away to watch him. 
He smelled his food and nibbled at it a 
little, but it didn’t suit him, apparently, and 
he retired to the depths of the kennel. 

As soon as he disappeared the chickens 
gathered around and began eating his food 
with songs of triumph and self-gratulation, 
but all at once that long gray body flashed 
into the midst of them, scattering them as 


40 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


with a whirlwind, and there was Tiger 
complacently devouring a chicken ! 

We forgave the reprobate yet one time 
more, but the next day I caught him again 
deliberately leaving his food 

out for “bait,” and after that 

“Miss Sallie” 
would have no 
more of him. We 
gave him to a friend in town who admired 
him, and Uncle Ben carried him off with 
grins and chuckles of delight. 

“ I done got red o’ dat pizen beast,” he 
said, when he returned, “ an’ I lay hit’ll be 
de las’ one I eber fotches home to tor¬ 
ment de life plum outen me, you hear 
dat, mun ! ” 










SHEP. 


E was .the most popular 
dog, I suppose, that any¬ 
body ever knew. He 
lived in our block, you 
see; and my window over¬ 
looked the house of the people who had the 
good fortune to own him, or rather to be 
owned by him. I have often thought that 
he regarded it in that light himself. He was 
firmly convinced, no doubt, that he em¬ 
ployed this family to work for him, and 
to provide him with a house and to do 
his cooking; in return for which he al- 
















4 2 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


lowed them to live with him, and he even 
saw that they came to no harm. 

I arrived at this conclusion after wit¬ 
nessing his condescending airs toward the 
master of the house, and the pleasant 
patronage that he extended to the whole 
family. There was nothing cringing or 
servile in his manner when Frank or Dick 
spoke to him. No, indeed! He came 
racing up, with that friendly grin of his 
at its best, and remarked in the plainest 
English : 

“Well, all right! What did you say?” 

And popular! Well, if any one of us 
could hope to have as many friends, what a 
thing that would be! In the first place, 
there was the family that took care of 
this dog. They were firmly convinced that 
such another dog was not to be found 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


43 


anywhere. Why, when the master came 
home, the first thing he said was, “ Hello, 
Shep! ” and when the gentle, invalid mother 
came down to breakfast in the morning, 
I always heard her ask : 

“Susan, have you fed Shep?” 

As for Frank and Dick, when they 
were not at school they were rolling or 
racing on the lawn with Shep ; and their 
merry shouts of laughter used to bring 
people to the windows in all the neigh¬ 
boring houses. Old people get very gruff 
and grim sometimes, but even the gruffest 
and grimmest of them like to hear genu¬ 
ine childish laughter. 

And then there was the little old lady 
next door. She was a very poor and 
lonely little old lady, and people laughed 
at her funny, old-fashioned clothes and 


44 


THE GREAT ROUND IVORLD 


her funny, old-fashioned ways. But Shep 
didn’t laugh ! No, indeed ! There must 
have been some tender chivalry in his 
heart, which would have marked him as 
a gentleman if he had been a human be¬ 
ing instead of a dog; for whenever she 
went down-town Shep went with her, 
and protected her and brought her back 
again. However sound asleep he might 
be, the click of her gate-latch never failed 
to rouse him ; and he was over the fence 
in a moment, and walking gravely along 
by her side. When she went into stores 
he waited for her at the door; and when 
she came home he left her at her own 
gate, with an awkward gambol or two at 
parting. 

“Somehow,” said the little old woman, 
“ the dog knows that I’m kind o’ friend- 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


45 


less an’ lonesome-like, with my old man 
an’ the children all gone, an’ he’s try- 
in’ to make it up to me.” 

As for the little girls around the cor¬ 
ner, it was well understood that they could 
not play at all without Shep. He was 
as much at home in their great, shady 
yard as he was in his own. He played 
ball with them by the hour, and the 
screams and laughter of the children 
mingled pleasantly with Shep’s jubilant 
barking. When they played dolls, Shep 
sat beside them and held a doll in his 
mouth when they wanted him to, though 
I was never sure that he liked the taste 
of the dolls. When they played lady, 
Shep was a lady, too, and whether he 
was calling or receiving calls his manners 
were elegant beyond description. 


46 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


Even Mike, the drayman, who lived 
away down the street, was on the friend¬ 
liest terms with Shep; and when he 
passed, morning and evening, he always 
shouted a cordial “ Hillo, Shep!” And 
there was a great multitude of people 
who shook hands with him over the 
fence every day, and whom he greeted 
with that delighted smile that was more 
eloquent than words. 

Some of us will never forget the time 
that Shep went to church. All his life 
had been consistent and well ordered, but 
somehow he had never gone to church, 
and no one had thought of such a possi¬ 
bility. Nevertheless, in he walked one 
Sunday when the church was crowded, 
and with an air of pleased surprise he 
promenaded up the main aisle and looked 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


47 























































































































































































48 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


about him. An usher passed without 
noticing him, and was back at the door. 
The minister was reading the last hymn. 
Shep’s whole air showed that he was 
thinking : 

‘‘Well, this is fine! Why have I never 
seen this before ? ” 

With joyful grins and much wagging of 
his tail, he recognized one after another 
of his friends, and insisted on sitting up 
and shaking hands with them. The little 
girls tried to choke back a giggle, but it 
could not be done. They were playing 
lady, Shep felt sure, so he sat down and 
played lady a little while, too, until it 
dawned upon him that the minister must 
be talking to him. So he went up to 
the pulpit to investigate. 

The whole congregation saw Shep ; but 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


49 


no one could do anything. He looked at 
the minister’s face, and wagged his tail in 
the friendliest manner, but nothing came 
of it. Then he looked over the congrega¬ 
tion, glancing from face to face with a 
self-possession that would have been worth 
gold and diamonds to an orator. 

Then the great pipe-organ began, and 
the choir arose to sing in the gallery back 
of the pulpit. Shep cast an amazed and 
horrified look in that direction, and started 
to retreat; but his emotions overpowered 
him, and he threw back his head and gave 
utterance to a howl that was full of despair. 

Well, the ushers got him out, and that 
was the last of Shep’s church-going. 

Early one morning a sad piece of news 
went through the neighborhood. The 
family had been roused during the night 


50 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


by a savage growl, a scream of pain, oaths, 
and a wild struggle. In the hall below 
they found a burglar down on the floor, 
with Shep’s teeth fastened in his throat, 
and a knife in his hand, red with the dog’s 
blood. 

The burglar was secured, but they 
scarcely waited to see about that,-—these 
people who loved the dog more than any¬ 
thing the burglar could have taken. They 
were down on the floor around him, trying 
to check the blood that flowed so fast 
from his faithful heart. One of the best 
physicians in the town was sent for, and 
came, and worked as faithfully with the 
dog as though he had been a millionaire. 

With the first glimpse of day came the 
little old woman, and then the little girls, 
and after a while the house was full of 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 




people. Shep looked up at every one, 
flapped his tail feebly on the floor, and 
did his best to show them how pleased 
was he. Doubtless, in his rapidly darken¬ 
ing vision, these familiar faces were pleas¬ 
ant to look upon, and filled his dying 
dreams with the scenes and the people 
that he loved. 

If he might have lived a little longer, 
he would have wondered what it meant 
when tears fell thick and fast upon his 
silky, yellow hair. He had known so little 
of what sorrow really was, himself, and here 
were so many people weeping around him. 

“You mustn’t notice if I cry a bit,” said 
the little old woman. “I’ve had greater 
sorrows, but I have grown to love this one 
creature, an’ I’ve been so lonely, an I 
think he understands me.” 


52 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


His grave is down in a corner of the 
lawn, where he used to play. It is a green 
little grave now, but the children still tread 
softly and speak low when they go near 
it. I can see it from my window, and 
every morning, the whole summer long, I 
see a little old woman lean over the fence 
and drop a flower upon that mound of 
green. 

























































































































































































MUFF. 



p oq pou t 1 LEASE, sir, is this the 
P r pound ? ” 

“This is the dog-pound, 
I Miss Two-Feet-Two. What 
~ d’ye want ? ” 

The big policeman looked down at the 
small girl, and the small girl looked up 
at the big policeman—nearly tilting over 
backward as she did so, his face was 
so high up. 

“ Oh, please, sir, is there a little dog 
here named Muff? A little brown dog 
with one white ear ? ” 






















54 


THE GREAT ROUND IHORLD 


“I can’t say,” replied the policeman, 
grinning facetiously at the window near 
him, where a red-whiskered man was look¬ 
ing out. “ I neglected to ask ’em their 
names as they came in ; but if you’ll wait 
a minute, I’ll go out and inquire if any of 
’em’s named Muff.” 

The child’s lips began to quiver, and 
her eyes to grow large and bright. 

“ Oh, please let me have Muff,” she cried, 
with a pitiful little break in her voice. “ I 
can’t pay the tax on him, but I won’t let 
him run out, not a single minute ! Do, 
please, let me have him back! You don’t 
know how he loves mamma and me ! Why, 
when I’m hungry he won’t hardly eat un¬ 
til he sees whether there’s enough for both 
of us. He’s been hungry and cold many 
a time, right by the side o’ me, an’ many 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


55 


a night when I didn’t have cover enough 
I just cuddled up closer to Muff an’ got 
warm. Oh, please let me have just this 
one little dog!” 

The agony in the child’s face was amus¬ 
ing to the men. They both laughed. Then 
the policeman said : 

“ Which do you think is the best way 
to kill dogs, Ned—drownin’ ’em, or knock¬ 
in’ ’em in the head ? ” 

The child gave a piercing scream and 
ran, with her hands over her ears. Big 
brutality looked after her and laughed 
again. It was merely a child trying to 
save her dog, and such things were com¬ 
mon. 

But the child could not stay away. 
Back of the house was the pound where 
the dogs were kept, with the high board 


56 THE GREAT ROUND IVORLD 


fence around it. Sounds of snarling, bark¬ 
ing, and fighting came from within. 

Pretty soon the tear-stained eyes were 
glued to a crack in the fence. Such dogs, 
such an army of dogs as had possession 
of the place within! Beautiful pet dogs 
and curs of low degree; small dogs and 
large dogs; dogs of all colors and forms 
and sizes; and all of them dejected and 
unhappy. But among them all was no 
sign of— 

Yes, there he was! 

“Muff! Come here, Muff ! ” shouted the 
child, and in an instant there he was, al¬ 
most breaking his neck to get to lick 
the one little brown finger that was pushed 
through the crack. And how he whined 
and jumped and begged to be taken 
through the crack himself—this foolish 



NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


57 



Muff, who 
knew nothing 
about hard-hearted 
policemen. 

And the little girl 
stood there, and thought and 
thought. What should she 
do? How could she reach 
that poor little creature be¬ 
fore the cruel death that was 
awaiting it ? 

The red-whiskered man 
was lying on a cot at an 
lfc A upper window, looking 
lazily out toward her. 

Away up 





























58 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


the street some bright and happy children 
were running across, with their nurse fol¬ 
lowing. Down the other way went a 
painter with his step-ladder on his shoulder. 

“ Oh, Mr. Painter! Mr. Painter man! 
please wait a minute.” 

The step-ladder came to a halt, and the 
painter turned around to look at the very 
small girl who was panting after him. 

“Mr. Painter, won’t you please set your 
step-ladder up against that fence a min¬ 
ute ? They’ve got my little dog in there, 
and I want to eet him out.” 

O 


“You kin reckon I will,” exclaimed the 
painter. “ Them ornery rascals took my 
dog out o’ my own yard, and killed ’im, 
too ;—but how’re you goin’ to git to him, 
little un?” 

“ Oh, if you can give me a piece of 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


59 


cord ! ” panted the trembling child, almost 
too nervous to talk ; and before his slow 
motions could supply it she had laid hold 
upon the piece that was dangling from 
his pocket, had pulled it out, and was 
making a slip-noose in the end of it. 

The red-whiskered man, looking lazily 
out from the upper window, was amused 
to see that the ragged little girl he had 
noticed out in front had climbed to the 
top of the fence, and was fishing over in 
the inclosure with a piece of cord, while 
a little brown dog kept jumping up toward 
her. He did not think very rapidly, and 
so he wondered vacantly how the little 
girl reached the top of that high fence, 
and why she was fishing in the pound 
with a cord. 

But all at once the cord caught some- 


6o 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 






















































































thing, and the little brown dog was pulled 
up so fast that he hardly knew what had 
happened to him until he was in his 
little mistress’ arms and she was down 
on the ground. 

“Well, I vow!” exclaimed the red-whis¬ 
kered man to himself in a tone of amaze. 

“Oh, we thank you so much, 
uff and I ! ” cried the child, 
face dimpling all over, thin 
as it was, and the step- 
ladder went on down 
the street quite glori- 
d with pleasure. 

“ And now, Muff,” said the 
ild warningly, “ I must wrap 
u up in my apron ; and don’t 
you even wag your tail till we get home.” 

And Muff understood all about it ; and 









NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


61 


when the little girl went up the street 
carrying that limp bundle, she met that 
very big policeman. But he had forgotten 
about her; and he turned to some one he 
knew, and said, right in the child’s hearing; 

“ Pretty small kid, that, to be takin’ keer 
of a baby ! But they put ’em at it here 
by the time they can walk ! ” 

And the best of it is that Muff heard it, 
too ; but Muff didn’t say a word ! 


SAM. 


A MISCHIEVOUS PET PONY AND HIS WIN¬ 
NING WAYS. 


WAS spending my first sum¬ 
mer at Aunt Ruth’s, out 
on the farm—at least I 
was just preparing to 
spend it, and was busily run¬ 
ning here and there, inspecting every room 
in the great farmhouse. 

“ Run to the milk-room, Helen, and see 
if the cream is turning,” called Aunt Ruth, 
who took the greatest delight in my won¬ 
der and pleasure over all her surroundings ; 









NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 6 j 


and so, followed by the three children, Jack, 
Ray, and Baby Nell, I went into the milk- 
room. 

Such shining pans of milk ! such huge 
crocks of butter ! no wonder I was as¬ 
tonished. And while I stood there, utter¬ 
ing exclamations of delight, I was suddenly 
startled by something cold and damp that 
touched the back of my neck. Of course 
I screamed, and fell up against a shelf and 
knocked down a pyramid of tin pans, be¬ 
sides deluging myself with the contents 
of a huge bowl of milk that I overturned ; 
and when I could get the milk out of my 
eyes enough to see, there were Jack and 
Aunt Ruth screaming with laughter, while 
behind me was a pony with its head 
thrust through the window, making frantic 
efforts to reach the milk that I had spilled. 


64 THE GREAT ROUND IVORLD 


Then I laughed with the others, and 
that was my first introduction to Sam. 
He had often been given dainty morsels 
from that window, it seemed, and he never 
heard any motion in the milk-room without 
presenting himself at the window and signify¬ 
ing that he was ready for any small offering 
in the way of a lump of sugar or a tea-cake. 

It was the very next day, I think, 
that, happening to glance out where the 
children were grouped on the grass un¬ 
der a cherry-tree, I was horrified to see 
Sam in the very midst of them. 

“ Oh, Aunt Ruth, the horse ! the horse !” 
I screamed, and Aunt Ruth came running, 
but stopped and laughed when she saw 
what it was. 

“ Oh, that’s only Sam,” she said. “ Sam 
wouldn’t hurt a fly.” 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 65 


Sure enough, I watched the little group, 
and twice Sam walked deliberately over 
Ray, carefully lifting his feet and not even 
touching him. Baby Nell dropped a little 
piece of cake she was eating, and instantly 



Sam snatched it up ; but before he could 
even taste of it, Nell flew at him, opened 
his mouth with her hands, took the cake 
away, and serenely ate it. 









66 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


“ Take ain’t dood for you, Sam,” she ob¬ 
served wisely. 

Such a look of surprise and reproach as 
Sam turned on that baby! And yet he 
did not make the slightest effort to rebel. 
No, indeed! He merely walked down 
toward the pretty fawn-colored Jersey calf 
that was strolling around on the lower part 
of the lawn, and when he was near enough 
he bit the calf on the back. Not enough 
to hurt it, you understand, but just enough 
to frighten the little creature, and make it 
jump and run. 

“ Oh, Sam always takes his revenge out 
of some of the other animals,” said Aunt 
Ruth, when I described the little scene to 
her. “ Sam is quite a character.” 

And before the first two weeks of my 
stay were gone I discovered that Sam had 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 67 


individuality and was well worthy of study. 
He had been the children’s playmate all 
his life, and he rather enjoyed a little out¬ 
ing with them. Very often all three of 
the children rode him at once; Jack in the 
middle, Ray behind him, and Baby Nell in 
front, and Sam entered into the spirit of 
their frolic as no other pony ever could 
have done. Sometimes, too, they drove 
him to a funny little cart, and Sam would 
pick his way as gingerly over the bad 
places in the* road as though he were 
treading on egg-shells. 

But Sam drew the line right there. He 
was willing to be made a plaything by the 
children, but he had a constitutional objec¬ 
tion to anything that looked like work. 

One evening, when Aunt Ruth and I 
were going out in the phaeton, we found 


68 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


that the horse she usually drove was lame, 
and so Sam was put in his place. With 
ears laid back and head tossing, Sam started 
off and trotted with all his might for about 
half a mile. Aunt Ruth was delighted 
with his speed and spirit, and was saying 
that she knew just how to manage Sam, 
when all at once the little rascal stopped. 

“ Come up, Sam! Come up ! ” she 
urged, shaking the lines gently. 

But Sam, instead of coming up, lifted 
one foot and deliberately kicked the front 
of the phaeton. 

“ Whoa, Sam ! Dear me, what are we 
going to do?” cried Aunt Ruth. “Come 
up, Sam ! Come up, sir ! ” 

Sam’s only reply was another kick at 
the phaeton, and then he quietly and calmly 
turned it around, carefully making a large 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES *69 


circuit, and having reached the road again, 
he went flying back home with a speed 
that made the wheels smoke. 

“ What made you come back so soon ? ” 
cried Jack, who met us at the gate. 

“ Sam wouldn’t go any farther,” an¬ 
swered Aunt Ruth, meekly. 

It is unnecessary to say that we didn’t 
try to drive Sam any more, though Aunt 
Ruth did declare that he was getting 
spoiled and that we must break him of it. 

It was interesting to watch Sam in the 
evening, as the feeding-time drew near, 
and the cows, horses, pigs, and sheep 
gathered about the barnyard gate, expect¬ 
ing to be turned in and given their sup¬ 
per. The other animals passed the time 
eagerly watching for the first glimpse of 
their usual attendant, and were impatient 


7 o 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


of anything that came between them and 
the barnyard. 

But as for Sam, the very spirit of mis¬ 
chief possessed him. He carefully placed 
himself in the way of the others so that 
they could not see. The cows tossed their 
heads angrily, the sheep tried to knock 
him out of the way, and the other horses 
bit at him ; but Sam eluded every attack, 
and “ came up smiling,” if one may make 
such a remark concerning a mere horse. 

It was diverting to watch him, as he 
pretended to be asleep, this joker of the 
barnyard, and approached gradually nearer 
and nearer to some one of the party, 
sometimes taking as much as twenty 
minutes in getting near enough for a 
kick. Then, quick as lightning, out flew 
that agile heel, making a dull thump on 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


7 1 


the subject of his joke, and the next 
instant Sam was twenty yards away, peace¬ 
fully nibbling the grass, and no doubt 
laughing prodigiously in his sleeve. 

My acquaintance with Sam was a long 
and pleasant one. It ended about seven 
years later, when a scrawled and tear- 
stained letter came to me from Nell : 

t 

“ Pore Sam is ded. We don’t know 
what was the mater with him. The last 
thing he did was to kick the caff, and 
that helped him sum, but he dide at last.” 



te. 



, . x -<*> • l/x&t, .. 






PEEK-/\-BOO. 

AN AMUSING STORY OF A LITTLE MEXI¬ 
CAN BURRO. 


AVE any of you ever 
seen a Mexican burro ? 
The burros are a bur¬ 
lesque on the donkey 
tribe. Their diminutive 
size, their large ears, and their patient 
demeanor would make them conspicuous 
as a variety of toy donkey, bearing the 
same relation to those larger beasts of 
burden that a lizard is supposed to bear 
to a crocodile. 













NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


13 


It appears almost incredible that in 
Mexico the burro performs all the drudg¬ 
ery usually assigned to horses and mules 
in this country ; that they not only carry 
men on long journeys, lasting for days 
at a time, but that they are sometimes 
loaded with wood tied into bundles, and 
piled up until nothing but the head of 
the patient little burro is visible. 

But a better fate has fallen to the lot 
of Peek-a-Boo. The few burros that find 
their way into Texas are eagerly pur¬ 
chased by the heads of families, and are 
turned over to the children as playthings. 
That was what happened to Peek-a-Boo. 
All day long he amuses himself, like the 
lazy sheep in the old poem, “eating grass 
and daisies white.” 

When the sun sinks toward the west- 


74 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


ern horizon, and the shadows begin to 
lengthen, the three little girls and Peek-a- 
Boo, assisted by some of their young com¬ 
panions, assemble on the lawn, and then 
the fun begins. The burro is but three 
feet high. The children can spring upon 
his back from the ground. One after 
another they go careering about the lawn, 
sometimes getting tumbled off, and 
screams and shouts of 
happy laughter fill the air. 




Occasional¬ 
ly there is a 
different kind 
of music. 


• .mi/’g uwi f up 


’ J* , 







,u/i • 













NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


75 


When Peek-a-Boo brays, the children say 
he is “singing”; and when the children’s 
mamma hears the song she puts her 
hands over her ears and cries: “ Oh, 

what a nuisance!” It is so loud that you 
wonder how so small an animal can possi¬ 
bly be strong enough to send it forth ; and 
it is protracted to such a length that you 
are filled with admiration for his lung power. 

When Peek-a-Boo gets ready to sing, 
everything else stops. He may be carry¬ 
ing some small rider triumphantly about 
the yard, but he pauses, lifts up his head 
and sends his song echoing over the hills. 
The children stand around him with their 
hands behind their backs, gravely waiting 
until he shall have finished his solo, or un¬ 
til he is out of breath. Then the play 
begins where it left off. 


76 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


Peek-a-Boo is a creature of moods. Some¬ 
times, as one of his small critics expresses 
it, he is “ puffickly angelic.” With his ears 
quietly wagging as he walks, he goes wher¬ 
ever they want him to, and accommodates 
his speed to their demands. If he always 
had on his angelic moods I am very much 
afraid that his playmates would think him 
tiresome beyond endurance. But it must 
be confessed that there are times when 
Peek-a-Boo is no saint. 

Some days, doubtless, he gets up feel¬ 
ing “crossways,” as the children’s grandma 
expresses it. If a chicken crosses his path¬ 
way while he is grazing, he lays back 
those long ears and dashes after it, his 
funny little hoofs twinkling over the lawn, 
and never stops the pursuit until the 
chicken has flown squawking over the 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


77 


fence. And when the children come with 
the bridle, he flourishes those absurd little 
heels in their faces, and leads them a wild 
chase about the lawn, and is captured only 
when all the juveniles in the neighbor¬ 
hood crowd him up into a corner. 

And then, what tricks he plays them— 
this little joker with the long ears and 
agile heels! No “trick mule” in a cir¬ 
cus ever equalled him for inventiveness 
and originality. When one of the young¬ 
sters mounts upon his back, Peek-a-Boo, 
instead of going forward, whirls around 
in one place until the rider is dizzy, or 
turns his head around and playfully bites 
at the feet hanging down against his side. 
Such screams of laughter as go up from 
the burro’s neighborhood ! 

If the children love Peek-a-Boo when he is 


78 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


good, they love him ten times as much when 
he is bad. The neighbors always gather at 
the windows to look, for they know the 
burro is having one of his “big days.” 

Sometimes failing to get his burden off 
by shaking or biting or whirling around, 
his burroship suddenly takes a new turn. 
He runs here and there among the trees, 
first against one tree trunk and then 
another, trying to scrape his rider off! 
But the little eight-year-old clings to his 
back like a monkey, drawing up her feet 
when the danger becomes imminent. Then 
he runs under the overhanging branches 
of a low tree, but it is altogether useless. 
These little Texans are riders from their 
cradles. She throws herself down on his 
back, with her arms about his neck, and 
passes under in safety. 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


79 


And then, as a last resort, Peek-a-Boo 
dashes under the house, where there is 
room for him to walk around very con¬ 
veniently. With a shout the little rider 
slips to the ground—just in time ! Peek- 
a-boo retires under the house, and is not 
to be persuaded out without a great deal 
of coaxing, accompanied by a lump of 
sugar. 

When the children take their lunch to 
the lawn, there is Peek-a-Boo in the midst 
of them. He forgets that he was ever 
cross, or tried to scrape them off or bite 
their feet. He walks around them, and 
anxiously reaches over their shoulders, and 
hints that it is lunch-time for him, too. 
They divide with him generously. Part 
of every child’s lunch goes into that ever- 
ready mouth of his. Bread and butter, 



8o 


THE GREAT ROUND IVORLD 


fruit, chipped beef—Peek-a-Boo takes it all 
in, and asks for more. 

When one of the children is appointed 
a committee of one to go back to the 
house and say, “ Mamma, may we have 
some more lunch? We didn’t have enough,” 
that wise mamma hands out the lunch, and 
says with a smile : “ Here is a little pan 
of scraps for Peek-a-Boo. He will like 
them just as well as bread and butter.” 

And the committee of one o^oes back 

O 

to the happy family on the lawn, and the 
feast begins again. 







LITTLE DRYAD. 

A TRAGIC AND PATHETIC EPISODE OF 
WILD ANIMAL LIFE. 


FOREST fire had started ; 
not a very large one, it 
is true, but enough to 
call out all the children 
from the farm-house, and 
to make the men think that they might 
have a little work, presently, fighting it. 
The “ woods-pasture ” was burning, and we 
were as close as we dared go to the fire, 
and thrilled with a kind of frightened 
delight as the flames spread and the leaves 
scorched and writhed in the fierce heat. 






82 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


We had been looking and talking for 
some time, and were so much absorbed 
that we scarcely noticed a little object drift¬ 
ing down toward us. like a withered leaf 
until Dick gave a cry of surprise and called 
out: “ Look at the squirrel, will you! 

Just look at her!” 

And then we saw that the little brown 
leaf was not a leaf, but a flying-squirrel, 
with one of her baby-squirrels in her mouth, 
and that she had floated down out of a 
great oak-tree, whose limbs were even then 
beginning to toss and writhe in the flames. 

Down she went to the top of an old 
stump, not ten feet from us, and in an 
instant she had dropped her baby there 
and was down on the ground, skurrying 
back to her blazing home. All over the 
ground in the pasture flames were licking 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 83 


up the withered leaves, and the heat almost 
scorched our faces even where we stood. 
We thought she would turn back when 
she reached that line of fire—but, no ! We 
saw her plunge straight into it, and then 
we turned away our heads. 

It was Dick that ventured to look around 
first. What a shout he raised! I can 
hear it now, with that queer tremor in it 
as he cried : 

“ There she comes ! She’s alive ! She’s 
alive ! ” 

And when we turned, too, there she 
came, floating down out of that wild storm 
of fire with her other rescued baby in her 
mouth, and in a moment she had dropped 
it beside the first little one and had fallen 
near it, writhing with agony. 

Such a spectacle as she was ! Her hair 



84 THE GREAT ROUND IVORLD 


was scorched, her tail was bare, her poor 
little feet were blistered, her eyes were 
shut. The young ones bore few marks 



of their terrible journey; but we thought 
it was all over with the poor little mother. 
“ Let me carry her home in my apron,” 






NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


Sy 


said Gwen, whose heart was wrung with 
grief over the woodland tragedy; and so 
we laid the squirrel tenderly in the little 
white apron, and, Dick and I carrying the 
little ones, we went back to the house. 
We did not even cast a backward glance 
at the fire in which we had been so 
much absorbed. The sublime example of 
mother-courage had completely blotted out 
all smaller interests, and we would never 
be able to think of the fire again without 
thinking of that little creature darting 
through the flames to save her young, 
with a devotion that would have made a 
human mother immortal. 

And that is the story we used to tell 
when people laughed at Dryad—we were 
studying mythology then, and, of course, 
we called the little mother “ Dryad.” She 



86 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


was never pretty after that. There were 
several patches on her little body where the 
hair would not grow, and her tail was ragged 
and disreputable-looking beyond description. 

But what did we care for that? Never 
were three animals so petted and cared 
for as these three that had drifted to us 
out of the heart of the fire; and never 
was any one animal so loved as was this 
ragged little squirrel-mother. 

We had no trouble in training her. She 
was in agony for several days, and we 
were doing our best to soothe her; and 
I think she must have understood it. At 
any rate, by the time she had recovered 
she was tame, and would perch on our 
shoulders or eat from our hands, or even 
come when we called her. 


* * * 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 87 


I suppose all animals of this kind must 
love their young with peculiar devotion; 
but it has always seemed to me that the 
terrible experience through which Dryad 
had gone must have given her a passionate 
devotion to those small objects of her 
affection. If she heard the least unusual 
sound, away she would rush to her babies, 
and stand over them, ready to gather 
them up and escape to a place of safety. 
If a stranger came to the house Dryad 
carried her little ones into the elm-tree 
in the yard, and she would never venture 
down with them until the visitor was 
gone. 

We were all so tender with her and 
watched her so much that we came to be¬ 
lieve we could understand all her thoughts. 
When we had a dreary, rainy day, one 


88 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


time, mother had made a fire in our play¬ 
room to drive away the dampness. At 
the first flash of the blaze Dryad sprung 
from my shoulder, mad with terror, caught 
up one of her babies, and fled from the 
room. In a moment she was back after 
the other one. 

We did not try to stop her. We knew 
of what she was thinking. The poor lit¬ 
tle mother ! We found her crouched in 
the darkest corner of a closet that hap¬ 
pened to be standing open, and it was 
hours before she would venture out again. 

* * * 

If our acquaintance with Dryad began 
with a tragedy, how much greater was 
the tragedy with which it closed! The 
three squirrels had always slept in a cage 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 89 


that had once belonged to the family 
parrot. We had shut them in, carefully, 
at bedtime, every night, but we allowed 
them to play about the yard in the dusk 
as long as possible because it was so pleas¬ 
ant to watch them. 

Every evening we sat on the porch, in 
the summer twilight, and the noiseless little 
creatures played around us, climbing into 
the trees near at hand, and then floating 
down to us like spirits. The two little 
ones had just begun to make little aerial 
journeys like their mother, and so the 
three climbed and flitted about until bed¬ 
time came and Dick called them to their 
cage. 

But one evening Dick was taken sud¬ 
denly ill, and in the midst of our ex¬ 
citement and alarm the squirrels were 


THE GREAT ROUND IVORLD 


(>o 

forgotten. Early the next morning we 
went out to look for them, and found 
that they had gone into the cage of 
their own accord. 

But there had been no one at hand to 
close the door, and on the floor of the 
cage were two little mangled bodies, piti¬ 
ful to look upon. While across them lay 
poor Dryad, torn, bleeding, but alive, with 
her teeth still buried in the neck of an 
enormous rat. 

Yes, she was alive, but she died while 
we were trying to lift her up and to help 
her. She had given her life at last to 
save those beloved little ones, and it has 
always been a comfort to me that she did 
not know they were dead. 

She was a very little thing, but I have 
always been glad that I knew her, this 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


9 1 


little Dryad, that came to us on the wings 
of fire and left us amid the throes of 
martyrdom ! 


































CLEM. 


A MIDNIGHT ADVENTURE IN A LONELY 

FARM-HOUSE. 


OU are pretty late getting 

home,” said the farmer 

with some displeasure in 
his voice. That’s just 

the trouble about allow¬ 
ing a boy any privileges. He’s always 

sure to abuse them. When I was a boy, 
if I went hunting once a year it was as 
much as I expected, and you must go 
every fourth Saturday, and never know 

when to come back then. What’s that 

you have in your pocket, sir?” 











NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


93 


Jerry slowly and reluctantly drew the 
little creature out into full view—a young 
squirrel, so frightened at its strange sur¬ 
roundings that its whole body was quivering. 

“Some other squirrels were fighting it,” 
he said timidly, “and I drove them off 
and caught it. I thought I would keep 
it for a pet.” 

“ Nonsense,” retorted his father, irritably, 
“Go and dress it for your mother’s supper.” 

Now, if Jerry’s mother had been in her 
room, away at the other side of the house, 
this story would never have been written; 
but just then she called, “Jerry! come 
here ! ” from behind the honeysuckle-vines 
that shaded the portico. 

“Let me see the squirrel, Jerry,” she 
said. “Oh, what a pretty little fellow! 
Why, I never could think of making a 



94 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


supper on such a bright and active creat¬ 
ure as this. I’ll speak to your father 
about it, Jerry. I think he will let you 
keep the squirrel.” 

Jerry thanked his mother, and hurried 
away to his room, his heart beating fast 
with pleasure. 

That night Jerry listened to the con¬ 
versation between his father and mother, 
which sounded through the walls at times. 
He heard Mr. Hodges say that his mother 
was spoiling the boy and that Jerry was 
already “a perfect milksop,” who would 
rather stay in the house and do nothing 
than work in the field with men. In 
fact, he heard a great many things that 
wounded him bitterly; but the end of it 
reconciled him to all humiliations possible, 
for his father said peevishly : 


95 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 

t 

“Well, let him keep it, then, since you 
are so set on it; but I tell you right now 
that I have given the boy up. You can 
clo what you please with him. He is a 
complete disappointment to me.” 

And that was the beginning of the friend¬ 
ship between Jerry and Clem—a friendship 
as singular as ever existed between a boy 
and a pet of any kind. The little squirrel 
was Jerry’s companion every hour of the 
day. He slept in a box beside Jerry’s bed, 
and was up on the pillow with the first 
peep of day, playing all kinds of tricks 
with Jerry’s hair, and whisking across his 
face as though that were his favorite play¬ 
ground. When Jerry was about the 
house, Clem was perched on his shoulder 
or playing hide-and-seek behind the furni¬ 
ture ; and when Jerry went to the field, 



96 THE GREAT ROUND IVORLD 


Clem pranced up and down the corn-rows 
after him, or perched on a fence-rail or a 
stump, where he pretended to be washing 
his face with those absurd little hands 
of his, afterward carefully wiping it with 
his tail. 

Jerry had just come in from some out¬ 
door duty, one evening at dusk, when 
he heard the sound of a horse’s feet, and 
went out into the yard to meet his father, 
who had been to town. Clem, who was 
on his shoulder, pretended to be terribly 
frightened, and went scurrying into Jerry’s 
shirt-sleeve, through which he hastily tun¬ 
nelled, presently poking his inquisitive 
head out under Jerry’s chin and barking 
with all his might. Mr. Hodges dis¬ 
mounted and came in, looking anxious 
even in that dim light. 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


97 


“Jerry,” he said in an undertone, “that 
money from your Aunt Susan came to¬ 
day—$3,000—and I brought it with me 
because I wanted to pay for the new 
ground to-morrow. It’s a great deal of 
money to have about the house, and I 
don’t want your mother to know about it. 
She’s not so well lately, and it would make 
her nervous.” 

“Then we won’t tell her,” said practical 
Jerry, delighted with his father’s unex¬ 
pected confidence. 

“ But here’s the trouble,” Mr. Hodges 
went on, still in that undertone, as though 
he feared some one would hear him, 
though they were so far from any other 
human habitation : “ I don’t know where 

in the world to hide it. I wish I had an 
iron safe. I never had much money about 



98 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 

the house before, and it never struck me 
how much responsibility there was in it. 



The bank was full of people when I drew 
the money. Suppose some of them—” 











































































































NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


99 


“I’ll tell you, father! Let’s hide the 
money in the old well! ” 

“ That will do, I think,” said Mr. Hodges. 
“ No one will ever think of looking there, I 
know. Come on, and I’ll let you down. You 
had better take the lantern down with you.” 

Within a few minutes Jerry and the 
lantern were being slowly lowered down 
into the old well out by the wood-pile. This 
well was about thirty feet deep, and until 
within the past few months had furnished 
the water supply for the farm ; but then 
it had gone dry and was abandoned, The 
rope and the old-fashioned wooden wind¬ 
lass were still there, because Mr. Hodges 
cherished the hope that the water-vein 
would some day break into the well again. 

Jerry had taken something else with 
him besides the lantern. In his pocket, 


IOO THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


wrapped in tissue paper, was the package 
of bills, so awe-inspiring to the boy who 
had never even seen such a sum in his 
life. On his shoulder was Clem, barking 
as though his life depended on it, and 
down in the bucket was a knife, which 
he had caught up from the kitchen table 
as he passed. Jerry had ideas of his own, 
and they were generally good ones. In¬ 
stead of throwing his package on the bot¬ 
tom of the well, he stood on tiptoe and 
dug out a hole in the clay wall just 
beneath a ledge of rock. Then he slipped 
the package into the hole and filled up the 
opening with clay as neatly as he could. 

“ I don’t think anybody’ll find that,” 
he said to his father as he came to the 
surface again, and put the lantern and the 
knife away in their places; and in truth 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


IOI 


both of them felt so serene and uncon¬ 
cerned about it afterward that they not 
only did not betray the secret to Mrs. 
Hodges, but both went to bed and to sleep 
as confidently as though there were not 
three cents in the house to tempt any 
possible or probable burglar. 

Now everybody knows that boys sleep 
soundly, and this one was no exception 
to the rule. He had often been told 
that anybody could easily come into the 
house and carry him away while he was 
asleep, but even this horrible possibility 
did not disturb him. 

Still, even a boy may be waked some¬ 
times. It was Clem that effected it, at 
last; Clem, who darted out of his box 
and scrambled across Jerry’s face, scratch¬ 
ing him with every paw at once ; and then 


102 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


scrambled back again as though to make 
sure of it. There was no doubt that he 
succeeded. Jerry not only startled broad 
awake, but was instantly conscious of a 
struggle going on in the next room, fol¬ 
lowed, before he could move, by a heavy 
fall and a scream. 

How the boy got to his mother’s room 
he never knew, but there he was almost 
before he was conscious of moving; and 
there was his father, lying on the floor, 
with a villainous-looking giant bending over 
him, tying him hand and foot. The lamp 
was burning, and Jerry saw by its light 
that his mother had fainted dead away. 

The villain had started up as the door 
opened, and he was on the boy in an in¬ 
stant, had borne him to the floor, and was 
fishing more cord out of his pocket. Jerry 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


105 


made no outcry and did not struggle, as 
he saw how useless it would be. 

“ Ef you don’t take keer o’ your be¬ 
havior,” said the robber threateningly, as 
he drew the cords tight around the 
boy’s ankles and wrists, “some o’ you’s 
a-goin’ to git yer heads blowed off. I 
come after that money, an’ I’m a-goin’ to 
have it.” 

But the robber seemed to think that it 
was useless to wait on the pleasure of a 
weak, crying boy. He took up the lamp 
and went to searching ; emptying the 
drawers of the bureau one by one, look¬ 
ing through the wardrobe from top to bot¬ 
tom, pulling everything out of the trunk 
in the corner. Then he examined the two 
prostrate figures on the floor to see that 
their bonds were all right, after which he 


104 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


took the lamp and went into the next 
room and on to the next. 

Suddenly, as the boy lay there trembling 
in the dark, something soft touched his 
cheek. In his nervousness he came near 
crying out with fright, but the next moment 
Clem was rubbing his furry side against 
his master’s face. 

Clem ran along Jerry’s breast and down 
to his hands, against which he rubbed his 
head, seeking for his customary caress. 

What was that ? Clem had discovered 
the cords, and was running over and over 
the boy’s hands, nosing at them curi¬ 
ously. The next instant every nerve in 
Jerry’s body was tingling with a new 
sensation. Clem was gnawing at one of 
the cords. 

The cord was a thick and heavy one, 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 105 


but the teeth were very sharp. Long as 
the time seemed to Jerry, it was an in¬ 
credibly short time after all. The cord 
fell apart, and his hands were free. Quick 
as a flash he sat up, found the knot, and 
unfastened his feet. 

And just at that moment he heard the 
ruffian coming back, muttering and cursing 
as he came. 

With a presence of mind that Jerry him¬ 
self always wondered at, he twisted the 
cord about his ankles again and lay down 
in the same position. The man came in, 
furious over his ill-success. 

“Oh, you’re come to, have you?” he 
said grimly to Mr. Hodges. “Well, now, 
you tell me where that money is, an’ you 
do it mighty quick, too. I don’t want 
to kill anybody if I kin help it, but I’ll 


106 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


kill the three of you like you was rabbits 
if you don’t sing it out pretty quick.” 

And he emphasized his remarks by giv¬ 
ing Mr. Hodges a kick. 

“ You’ll never hear it from me. I’ll die 
first,” said the man on the floor, looking 
calmly up into the robber’s face. 

“ I’ll tell you where it is,” suddenly rang 
out Jerry’s clear voice. “ It’s in the old 
well out by the woodpile!” 

“ Wretched boy !” cried the father angri¬ 
ly, “can I never depend on you? Are 
you determined to ruin me at every turn ? 
You— ” 

But Jerry did not hear. Before the 
words were fairly out of his mouth the 
robber had darted out of the house and 
around to the old well. The sound of 
his footsteps had not died away when Jerry 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 107 


was up and creeping after him. He shel¬ 
tered himself behind the big syringa-bush, 
and saw their midnight visitor lean over 
and peer down into the sombre depths of 
the well, and examine the windlass and 
try the rope. He saw him light a match 
and drop it and watch its descent. He 
seemed to hesitate a moment, when he 
saw how deep the well was, but all at once 
he seized the rope in a sort of despera¬ 
tion, swung himself clear, and slid down 
out of sight. Then Jerry sped around 
the syringa-bush and crept softly to the 
edge of the well. He could see the rob¬ 
ber away down at the bottom of the 
well lighting matches and looking for the 
money. 

Jerry laughed gleefully to himself, as 
he crept off toward the wood-pile. “ He’ll 


io8 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


never find it that way/’ was the thought 
that made him laugh. 

There was no moon, but the stars were 
shining, and by their light Jerry found the 
axe where he had left it the evening before. 

Back he went to the well, moving soft¬ 
ly as though he were only a part of the 
shadows. Down below the man was still 
lighting matches and searching. Carefully 
Jerry raised the axe over his head and 
brought it down on the rope with a re¬ 
sounding blow. 

But, alas ! his anxiety was so great that 
he missed. The axe cut a little notch 
in the rope and was buried in the wind¬ 
lass. Up from below came a shout like 
the cry of a wild beast, and the rope 
instantly tightened under the man’s weight. 
Another blow! Another, Jerry! Then 




NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 109 

the rope parted and went coiling down 
into the well, with something heavy at 
the end of it, and groans, shrieks, and 
curses came up as though that were a 
veritable demon down below. 

“ Now, I’ve got to fix him so that he 
can’t get out,” was Jerry’s comment, for 
he had seen men climb up from wells by 
making notches in the walls for their 
hands and feet. Quietly and without any 
excitement, now that the man was safely 
captured, Jerry began dragging up the 
logs of wood and piling them over the 
mouth of the well. Higher and higher he 
piled them, until he had at least a cord 
heaped up between the midnight marauder 
and liberty, and then he went into the 
house. 

“Well, I’ve got the burglar shut up in 

8 


no THE GREAT ROUND [VORLD 


the well, father/' he said in the most mat¬ 
ter-of-fact tone, as though it were an every¬ 
day occurrence; “ and now I’ll cut you 
loose and we can see after mother.” 

As for Mr. Hodges, something had 
come over him, and he had nothing to 
say. When, half an hour afterward, the 
patient invalid lay smiling through her 
tears, and needed no further “ seeing after,” 
it was Jerry that said : 

“I’ll stay awake the rest of the night, 
father, and watch the well, and I guess 
you’d better ride over to Mr. Odom’s 
and get some help.” 

The next morning the people began to 
arrive. The news spread like magic, and 
half the town, fifteen miles away, turned 
out to see the boy who had shut up a 
burglar in a well—and a burglar that meas- 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES m 


ured six feet four at that. Jerry had to 
tell his story over and over again, and 
we may be sure he enlarged eloquently on 
Clem’s part in it, and had little to say 
about his own. Clem was petted and 
praised and made much of, but he resented 
all advances, and tried to bite the hands 
that sought to stroke him. He wanted 
nobody but Jerry. 

But that night, after they were all gone, 
when Jerry was going about his work whist¬ 
ling in tune with the whippoorwills out 
in the orchard, his father met him and 
stopped to stroke the head of the gay lit¬ 
tle merry-maker on his shoulder. 

“ Good Clem ! ” he murmured softly, 
as though half-ashamed of himself. “ Good 
little fellow! I don’t know where we’d 
all be now if it hadn’t been for you!” 


11 2 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


“Isn’t he great, father!” cried the de¬ 
lighted Jerry, hugging his pet close. His 
father put his arm over his shoulder and 
walked beside him into the house. 

“Jerry,” he said, and his voice trembled, 
“ I’ve been a fool ! Let’s rub out and 
begin over again.” 

























Of'JLY J\ MOLE. 



^ HERE is a certain little 


A 

^ 4 , his residence in very 


friend of ours who builds 


quiet and retired places, 


for he does not court at¬ 


tention. Indeed, he rather seems to avoid it. 
He builds a fortress, but he is not a war¬ 
rior. He drives long tunnels, but he is 
not a miner. He can calculate numbers 
and distances, though he is not a mathe¬ 
matician. He never makes a mistake in 
his angles, though he has not studied 
geometry. He sometimes digs wells, but 
he is not a professional well-digger. 










114 THE GREAT ROUND IVORLD 


Nobody calls him the king of beasts, but 
he can fight with more than the ferocity 
of the lion or the tenacity of the bulldog. 

The little friend to whom I allude is the 
mole. 

Ever since farming came into fashion 
mankind has been the sworn enemy of 
molekind, and has waged relentless war¬ 
fare against the little genius of the dark. 
The traps that have been set, the poison 
that has been left in those underground 
highways, the cleverly contrived little homes 
that have been turned inside out by cruel 
spades—it would take a volume to tell of 
them ! And yet, the little animal that runs 
his long tunnel straight down the potato 
ridges is well worth studying. 

The round little body with its velvety 
fur, the long, elastic snout, and the broad 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 115 

“paddles” armed with strong claws are 
familiar to every one, by reason of the traps 
and snares above mentioned, but people 
who think that “ blind as a mole” expresses 
total blindness reckon without their host. 
Deep under the sheltering fur are two tiny 
points of eyes, which are somewhat discom¬ 
posed by the bright glare of day, but which 
are sharp and bright enough to see all that 
is to be seen in the dusky shadows under¬ 
ground. 

It is much the fashion, too, to compare 
people that are mean and sneaking with 
moles, but this is a manifest injustice. The 
mole lives underground because that is his 
home. He drives his tunnels as men send 
pioneers and build railroads into new coun¬ 
tries, and he is full of courage, with noth¬ 
ing of the sneak in his disposition. 


ii 6 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


And such a little builder as he is, with 
only his nose for auger, and his queer lit¬ 
tle paddles for shovel and spade ! There 
is the mound of earth, for instance, in which 
he makes his fortress. The tunnels that 
he bores all over the farm lead back into 
the fortress, where he intrenches himself in 
time of danger. If you were underground, 
like him, and could follow him through 
those dark passages, you would find your¬ 
self, all at once, in a circular gallery. How 
did the little home-builder ever manage to 
draw that circle, I wonder ? 

And there are five passages from this 
gallery, leading upward in a slanting di¬ 
rection to another and a smaller gallery 
near the roof, and the little geometrician 
laid this off, also, with invisible compasses, 
for it is a circle like the lower gallery. 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 117 

Leading from this gallery are three pas¬ 
sages, slanting downward into a large, 
domed room, and there is his moleship’s 
stronghold, where he sits at ease as though 



he were in a moated castle with the draw¬ 
bridge up. 

To reach his retreat, you must follow 
along some tunnel that leads into the lower 
gallery, you perceive; and then you must 
take one of the five passages to the upper 
gallery; and then you must take one of the 































118 THE GREAT ROUND IVORLD 


three passages downward into the strong¬ 
hold ; and all that time he would have heard 
you coming, for his ears are of the sharpest; 
and before you could think, he would be 
far away. 

Who taught him to draw his fairy circles, 
and hollow out his dome-shaped roof, and 
smooth those earthy walls without plaster 
or cement or trowel ? Who taught him to 
make the five passages at equal distances 
apart ? Who showed him how to make the 
three other passages, at equal distances be¬ 
tween them ? Who taught him to count 
at all,—this tiny creature, shut out from the 
sunlight, and working his laborious way 
through unknown regions beneath our feet ? 

But, after all, this many-chambered cas¬ 
tle is not the end of his resources. He pro¬ 
vides a nursery for his little ones, too, and 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 119 

carpets it with soft, dried grasses for their 
repose ; and he places the nursery at some 
point where two or three tunnels meet, so 
that the mother and the babies may have 
the more chances for escape if hard pressed 
by the enemy. What a reasoner this little 
home-builder seems to be, with his plans 
that look so far into the future ! 

If you examine the skeleton of the little 
burrower you will find that its shoulder- 
blades are out of all proportion to the re¬ 
mainder of its anatomy, so large are they, 
and strong, projecting above the backbone. 
The bones of the forelegs are short and 
curved and strong, and there were powerful 
muscles in the neck and shoulders which 
gave those paddle feet their terrible tearing 
power. 

Even when a mole is detected above 


120 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


ground, he must be wary and swift of foot 
who can capture the little miner, so rapidly 
does he work those formidable paddles and 
sink out of sight. If one can get near 
enough to thrust a spade or a board be¬ 
neath him he may be caught ; but given 
“a fair field and . no favors,” the mole is 
sure to have the better of the race. 

I am sorry to say that the manners of 
this underground householder are not up 
to the standard required by civilization, and 
that he is not at all versed in table etiquette. 
When he succeeds in running down a worm 
he pounces upon his prey with a savage 
ferocity astonishing to see, and tears it with 
teeth and claws, and becomes altogether a 
very disagreeable animal. 

And when he meets another mole with 
whom he does not happen to be on friendly 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 121 


terms, I am sorry to say that they fall upon 
each other with a vindictive fury impossi¬ 
ble to describe. What terrible battles they 
have underground there, those cruel and 
bloodthirsty little duelists, who shall say? 

But we may congratulate ourselves that 
the mole is not so larcre as the lion. If 

O 

he were, and had strength and ferocity in 
proportion, he would devastate so much 
of the earth that puny, insignificant man 
would be sulking in caves or housing in 
tree-tops. 

















THE 


HORNEb FROG. 

SOME INTERESTING TALK ABOUT A VERY 
INTERESTING CREATURE. 


QUICK rustle through the 
dry grass, a gleam of some¬ 
thing that might be a patch 
of gray lichens, and then 
your eyes fasten upon him 
and he stands confessed in all his native 
homeliness—the horned frog of the great 
Texas plains. He is not proud of his 
appearance, and if you give him half a 
chance he will skurry away and be out of 
sight before you know it. 







NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 123 


When you look at him closely you dis¬ 
cover, with some resentment, that he is not 
a frog at all, for he has quite a respectable 
tail two or three inches in length, and he 
runs smoothly and swiftly, and never makes 
his way over ground by leaping, like the 
animal whose name has by some mistake 
been made a part of his possessions. 

And yet, one can hardly call him a lizard, 
either, for his head is short and frog-like, 
and he has a big, round, frog-body. The 
truth appears to be that nature was busily 
engaged in making a lizard one day, and in 
a fit of merriment, just for a joke, she gave 
him a frog’s head and body, covered his 
back with gray scales and his head with 
horns, and then turned him loose, the most 
grotesque figure that wanders over the 
earth to-day. 


124 THE great round world 


The stranger that visits Texas and sees 
the horned frog for the first time is seized 
with terror, and cannot be persuaded that 
the wild, vicious-looking creature will not 
bite or perhaps “hook,” else of what use 
are his horns? Not until they see the 
Texas children go out and catch one and 
make a plaything of him can they be con¬ 
vinced that the horned frog is harmless; 
and even then they are possessed with 
the belief that he will some day turn upon 
his tormentors and bite them to instant 
death. 

The Texas boy, however, knows better, 
and manages to have a great deal of fun 
with his queer pet. One of his standing 
pleasures is to use the horned frog for a 
horse, and the small, sunburned urchin 
driving five or six such horses tandem to a 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 125 


wagon ingeniously constructed from a cigar- 
box and four spools is a sight to move the 
laughter of the gravest. 

Wherever one sees the horned frog, 
whether hiding away under the 
cool shadows of the rose- 

rK 

bushes 
in the front 
yard, or darting 
across the road out 
on the broad prairie, 
twenty miles from any human 
habitation, he is always perfectly 
at home. He has a queer way of raising 
himself on all his four feet sometimes, and 
standing up straight and stiff, looking not un¬ 
like a quaint little four-legged stool. I have 
thought that perhaps he does this to give 
himself a better view of the surrounding 






126 THE GREAT ROUND IVORLD 


country, but it is hard to tell. He is very 
quiet in his ways, and has never offered any 
explanation. 

One can readily believe, however, that all 
sorts of thoughts and fancies run through 
that little horned head ; that he has doubt¬ 
less seen many years roll over the Texas 
plains, and is gifted with a long memory, 
and that if he would only talk he could tell 
wonderful things that would surprise us all. 
He has such a wise, cunning look, this 
strange little child of the sun ; there is 
nothing in all the plains to compare with 
him. 

* * * 

The Tonkawa Indians, a remnant of 
whose tribe still lingers in Texas, tell a 
curious story concerning the origin of the 
horned frog. The legend runs thus : 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


127 


Many years ago, when the Tonkawas 
were a powerful tribe, when their step was 
heard on the war-path, and their enemies 
were afraid of the very shadow of their 
smallest children, their great chief, No- 
chambo, died, and his son, Mo-cham-be-ze, 
became chief in his stead. Now, Mo-cham- 
be-ze means “ rabbit-footed,” for the young 
chief’s knees shook beneath him when a 
snake-skin came stuffed with arrows, and 
he left the great buffalo herds and followed 
the antelope no longer, but drew his tribe 
away to another part, and left the finest 
hunting-grounds to the Wacos and the 
Kiowas. 

At last the great medicine-man Nin-to-lo- 
to came to him and said : 

“ Lo, my father, the Great Spirit is 
angry. He gave us this whole country for 


128 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


our possession, and we have given it up to 
the snake and the wildcat. Come, now, 
let us drive them out and fix a dwelling- 
place for the Tonkawas, where they may 
bury their dead and burn their council- 
fires.” 

And Mo-cham-be-ze promised, and they 
put on their war-paint, and went out to 
drive the Kiowas from their country. In 
the midst of the great battle, Mo-cham-be-ze 
fled, and a few of his followers with him, 
and many of the tribe were killed ; so that 
the Tonkawas could never hold up their 
heads against an enemy again. But Nin- 
to-lo-to, being sorely wounded, and seeing 
how his chief had fled, asked the Great 
Spirit to change their shape, and give them 
bodies befitting their small and cowardly 
spirits. 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


129 


After the battle nothing more was seen 
of Mo-cham-be-ze and his followers, but a 
few horned frogs were found trying to ap¬ 
proach the scattered remnants of the tribe, 
and the Tonkawas recognized their old 
associates, and fled from them in terror. 

* * 

That is the story. Now when one sees 
the alert little creatures rustling through 
the grass and recognizes that the soul of 
some fugitive Tonkawa, with tomahawk 
and arrowhead gone, and scalping-knife laid 
aside, looks at him from those small, shin¬ 
ing eyes, he will have a kindlier feeling for 
the silent native of the sunny plains. 

Does he mourn over his lost hunting- 
grounds, I wonder ? Does he remember 
the thrill of battle and the joy of hunting, 


130 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 

and the smoke of the evening camp-fire ? 
Alas! poor little horned frog!—a mere 
reptile, whose language no man can under¬ 
stand. 







ZIP. 


seems to me, in looking back, 
that my entire boyhood was 
passed in acquiring pets, edu¬ 
cating them until they had a 
great number of accomplish¬ 
ments, and then losing them, 
by one calamity or another, and mourning 
over them with the most heartfelt sorrow. 
Cindy, the old black cook, ruled over our 
household with a rod of iron, and I was 
constantly at war with her over my pets, 
which she cordially despised. 

But among them all, the pet that I most 








132 THE GREAT ROUND [VORLD 


loved, and which Cindy most hated, was 
nothing but a coon. He was given to me 
in his babyhood, and the young man that 
captured him said : “He’s going to be a 
sly little rascal, a sort of touch-and-go 
mischief-maker, and you’d better call him 
Zip.” So Zip it was. 

No one had to teach Zip anything. I 
began with some idea of training him, but 
he learned so many queer things of his own 
accord that I left him to develop in his own 
way. He went about the place with a sol¬ 
emn, almost melancholy look, and yet I am 
sure, that there never was a more cheerful, 
contented spirit than his. 

He had an abundance of sly humor, too, 
and I used to wonder why he didn’t laugh 
a little at the pranks he played. A great 
many of them were irresistibly funny, and 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


*33 

none but a fun-loving soul could have 
played them ; and yet there was Zip’s face 
always as full of sorrow as though some¬ 
thing were resting heavy on his conscience. 

He soon learned to go hunting with me, 
and after that I never went to the woods 
without him. He grew very proficient in 
treeing ’possums, and the whole country 
round rung with his praises, for ’possum¬ 
hunting was a popular sport among the 
boys. When, added to that, he began to 
tree coons, the members of his own family, 
you know, every boy round about was wild 
to possess him, and I was offered various 
sums, some of them quite fabulous in my 
eyes, for the coon that could do such won¬ 
derful things. I resisted every temptation, 
however, and clung to my pet. 

Zip had a lordly contempt for his own 


04 


THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


kind all his life, and assisted in the hunting 
down of many a coon, always standing by, 
an impassive spectator, at the death. He 
must have thought that his superior cir¬ 
cumstances lifted him very far above any 
ordinary coon that dwelt in the woods and 
hunted for a living. Sometimes I was 
afraid he would grow lonely and run away 
from me, to seek some playmate of his own 
species ; but I wronged him ; he loved me 
too well. 

When there was no serious business on 
hand in our hunting excursions, Zip amused 
himself in very curious ways. One of his 
habits was to look for wasps’ nests. He 
would walk along, peering up into trees 
and bushes in the sharpest way ; and if he 
caught sight of a nest he immediately 
climbed the tree, took the nest in his 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


U5 


hands, rolled himself up like a ball, and 
fell to the ground. I believe he could 

have fallen 
almost any 
distance 
without 
hurting 
himself. 



When he and the nest had reached the 
ground together, and the wasps had settled 
all over him and were stinging him wick¬ 
edly, Zip would sit up, reach around and 
catch a wasp, rub it between the palms of 










136 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


his paws until it was dead, and then drop 
it and go for another. This performance 
was kept up until all the wasps were killed, 
Zip’s face wearing a serious, absent-minded 
look all the time, as though he were thinking 
of something else; and then he would tear the 
nest to pieces and eat all the young wasps. 

Then I would come out of hiding,—for 
when Zip went up a tree I always knew 
what was going to happen, and took myself 
to a place of safety. 

When we passed a pool of water or a 
small creek, Zip invariably paused a while to 
stand on the bank and feel around in the 
water with one of those baby-like hand- 
paws, hunting for frogs or crawfish. He 
caught a surprising quantity of such game, 
too, and I always had to wait for him to eat 
it before he would stir. 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 137 


I loved Zip with such devotion that I was 
especially anxious for him to make a favor¬ 
able impression on Cindy, but, on the con¬ 
trary, he left nothing undone that would 
make her life a burden to her. If she fried 
the spring chicken and set it on the table 
and then turned her back but a moment, 
Zip would seize the finest and tenderest 
piece and mount to his favorite retreat, a 
little ledge above the kitchen door, eating 
serenely and looking down at Cindy, who 
was fuming and scolding below. 

If she slipped off her capacious shoes, as 
she often did, to “rest her feet,” Zip would 
stuff into them all the bones, stale bread, 
pebbles, or anything else he could find. 
Once he stole one of Tabby’s young kittens 
and put it into one of the shoes, where it 
went to sleep; and when the shoe was 


138 THE GREAT ROUND IVORLD 


about to be put on again, “Aunt” Cindy 
screamed most lustily as her toes touched 
the soft, furry creature. 

Not long afterwards Zip capped the cli¬ 
max by bringing a snake and stowing it 
away in the same convenient receptacle. 
To be sure, the snake was dead. He had 
killed it himself, that very morning; but 
when Cindy put her foot on it her screams 
rent the air and roused the entire family. 

She feared the coon as much as she hated 
him, and her shoes were left within his 
reach no more. He avenged himself, how¬ 
ever, by capturing her best Sunday bonnet 
and climbing into the garret of her cabin 
through a broken place in the ceiling, and 
spending the day there, occasionally dang¬ 
ling the bonnet over the opening by one 
string. In vain .Cindy begged and scolded 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


139 


and wept. Late in the evening Zip and 
the bonnet tumbled through the opening 
together and landed on Cindy’s bed; but 
though the bonnet was in ruins, the coon 
was not hurt in the least. 

One of Zip’s last accomplishments was 
devised solely for “Aunt” Cindy’s benefit. 
If she left the pan of dish-water a single 
moment, he was on the table, and had 
mounted to the edge of the pan, and was 
feeling around in the dish-water, as he did 
in the creek, for frogs. Sometimes he 
found a crumb, and he brought it up in 
that funny little hand, and ate it with great 
satisfaction ; but I am sure he always ex¬ 
pected to find a frog. 

This was one accomplishment more than 
Zip needed, however, and it brought calam¬ 
ity on him. One evening Cindy had just 


140 THE GREAT ROUND IVORLD 


come in from milking, and had strained the 
milk into a huge, shining tin pan. She was 
gone but an instant, to put away the 
strainer, and when she came back there 
was Zip mounted on the table and serenely 
feeling all through the milk for frogs. I 
am sure he never forgot the whipping 
Cindy gave him that day. She said af¬ 
terward : li Dattair coon jes’ like some 
young’uns, you gotter whup’em ’fore you 
kin do anythin’ widdem.” 

At any rate, after that Zip always kept 
at a distance when Cindy was around. 

The little fellow died the next year, and 
during his last illness Cindy forgave him. 
She worked with and nursed him as faith¬ 
fully as though I had been the patient 
instead of Zip ; but he, true to his in¬ 
stincts, reached up and gave her fat arm 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 141 


a sly pinch, not ten minutes before he 
died. 

As for me, I was inconsolable; and 
though I have had many pets since then, 
not one of them ever took the place of Zip 
in my affections. 

10 








CLEOPATRA. 

THB GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF A STRANGE 

LITTLE PET. 


LEOPATRA was what I 
called a certain little pet 
in which I was much 
interested once upon a 
time. I was very much 
given to writing in these days. I had a 
little den of my own, where I spent a great 
deal of time weaving stories, and it was 
seldom that anybody intruded on my seclu¬ 
sion. Thus the room was silent for hours 
at a time, except for my slight motions or 
the occasional rustle of a sheet of paper. 





NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 143 


It was amusing to me to see how bold 
some of my little neighbors became. There 
was a mouse whose home was in the chim¬ 
ney ; he grew quite friendly in the course 
of time, and after eating the crumbs that 
I put on the hearth for him he would stand 
on his hind feet and look at me, turning 
his head to one side, as much as to say : 

“ Well, haven’t you any more ?” 

And there was the little green lizard that 
lived in the vines at my window, and that 
used to come out on the window-sill, right 
at my elbow, and caught flies, without 
paying any more attention to me than if I 
were a part of the furniture. What a reg¬ 
ular turncoat he was, that lizard! As 
long as he stayed among the vines he was 
the most beautiful green, but as soon as he 
came down on the brown window-sill he 


144 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 

turned brown, and looked as innocent as 
though he were not doing it on purpose to 
deceive the flies and make them think that 
he was part of the window-sill. 

But there was another fly-catcher in the 
room, too. I had a way of writing on a 
large blankbook, which I held in my lap. 
The sheets of manuscript, as soon as they 
were written, were laid on a chair beside 
me. It was very primitive and very woman¬ 
like, and, perhaps, that was the reason I 
did it. And one day, happening to glance 
down at my last sheet of manuscript, I 
beheld Cleopatra. 

Cleopatra was a spider. 

Now, I am not fond of spiders. I object 
to their cobwebs, strung around in the 
corners and vexing the souls of good house¬ 
keepers. I am afraid of their poisonous 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 145 


bite, and it gives me a “creepy” feeling 
to know that they are so much better pro¬ 
vided with eyes than I am. My first im¬ 
pulse was to brush the spider off the chair 
and kill it. I actually raised my hand to 
do this, but the spider was at that moment 
cautiously creeping up on a giddy young 
fly, so I let it live; and a few moments 
afterward I had forgotten it. 

But the next morning I had no sooner 
begun work than there he was again, 
crawling over the sheets of paper on the 
chair. I recognized him at once. He was 
a black spider, with three white spots on 
his back. “Aunt Glory,” the old colored 
woman who cleaned up the room, entered 
at that moment to consult me about some- 
thing, and came near demolishing my new pet 
with the feather duster before I could speak. 


146 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


“ Don’t touch it, please, Aunt Glory,” I 
cried, just in time. “ It seems such a 
friendly spider. I think I shall let it live, 
just for curiosity.” 

“Well, I ain’gwine come ’bout dissher 
room no mo’,” exclaimed Aunt Glory, with 
a toss of her turbaned head. “ I kin lib 
wid mos’ anything, but I ain’ gwine try to 
lib wid spiders, you heah me right now ! ” 

So Cleopatra and I were left to our own 
devices, and a friendship sprang up between 
us that was as firm as it was astonishing. 

I never knew where Cleopatra came from. 
He certainly must have had some hid¬ 
ing-place, where he spent the time when I 
wasn’t writing, but I never saw him going 
or coming. I would look down at the 
chair that held my work, and there he 
would be in full possession. If he had 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 147 


possessed the secret of fern-seed he could 
not have made his comings and goings 
more invisible. 

There could not nave been a more agree¬ 
able companion for a literary worker. He 



was never noisy or garrulous. He never 
persisted in talking when I wanted to be 
silent. Nothing could have been more 
modest and unobtrusive than his demeanor. 














148 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


And how patient he was. What a les¬ 
son his conduct was to me. I was always 
fretting because of the long delays and 
the bitter disappointments that beset the 
road to literary preferment. Cleopatra 
never fretted. How many times I have 
seen him crawl slowly, by the very faint¬ 
est motion, across a sheet of paper toward 
some reckless fly, and at last, just as he was 
about to spring, away would go the fly 
with an impudent flirt of its rainbow wings. 
But Cleopatra was never discouraged. 
Without the slightest hesitation he im¬ 
mediately “camped on the trail” of 
another fly. 

This had been going on some time when 
all at once, one day, there was Cleopatra 
on the sheet of paper on which I was 
writing. He did not mind the motion of 


NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 


149 


my hand. I laid the sheet on the chair, 
and him with it, but within five minutes 
he was back again. After that there were 
very few days when he did not make his 
appearance on my blankbook, as much at 
his ease as though he had lived there 
always. 

Once, in the course of his travels, he 
walked over my hand. I must confess that 
I didn’t like that much. I was afraid that 
he was growing too familiar. However, 
it soon became so common a thing that 
I did not even stop writing for it ; though 
I generally held my sleeve together at the 
wrist. There was no doubt that Cleopatra 
was a superior spider, but I did not want 
him up my sleeve, for all that. 

For a whole month Cleopatra and I 
were companions. In whatever part of the 


ISO THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


room I had my writing, there was Cleo¬ 
patra, quietly supervising it. He walked 
over the lines as I traced them, perhaps 
weaving daintier fancies of his own; for 
it was difficult to watch him long and not 
believe that he was filled with subtle 
wisdom. 

But one day as I sat at work, Aunt 
Glory violated her promise and came into 
the room. 

“You gwine be sick, settin’ up in dissher 
room all de time, lak what you is,” she 
began. “ I heerd Mas’ Dick say dis berry 
mawnin’—” 

But I never heard what Mas’ Dick said, 
for Aunt Glory suddenly gave utterance to 
an unearthly shriek and slapped viciously 
at the back of her neck. The next instant 
there on the floor lay the mangled remains 



NATURAL HISTORY STORIES 151 

of Cleopatra. He had bitten her on the 
neck and she had killed him. 

“ I knowed all de time dattair pizen 
critter was gwine to bite somebody ! ” ex¬ 
claimed Aunt Glory wrathfully. “ Now 
jes es like es not dey’ll be a hole slump 
outen de back o’ my neck you could put 
a aig in ! 

Aunt Glory flounced out indignantly. 
She did not even offer to clear away the 
remains. I went and looked at it present¬ 
ly, a mere little pulpy mass, with its help¬ 
less legs still quivering. Yet that little pin¬ 
point which served Cleopatra as a brain had 
been capable of memory and affection, fie 
had known the difference between me and 
another, and had looked on me with eyes 
of tenderness and love. 

Such a little thing, and so easy to crush, 


152 THE GREAT ROUND WORLD 


but the thought of his daily and hourly 
companionship could not be crushed out, 
and I mourned for my lost Cleopatra. 








In the Story Land 

BY 

HARRIETT LINCOLN COOLIDGE 


A Series of dolly Bright Interesting Stories 


Price, 75 Cents, Post-paid 


SOME OF THE STORIES ARE: 

Little Helen’s New Year’s Wish.—Little 
Black Fairy (Coal].—Mother Willow 
and Her Friends.—The Discontented 
Raindrop.—Maidie’s Easter Monday. 
—Little Red Cap (Squirrel).—The 


Violet and Nutshell.—The Rose Club. 
—Flow the Fairies Came (Rainbow 
Colors).—Dear Little Brownie (Chest¬ 
nut).—Little Yellow and His Brothers 
and Sisters (Maple leaf).—Jack Frost 
and His Fairies.—Harry’s Thanksgiving 
Fairy.—Mother Spruce and Her Babies 
(Christmas Tree).—Kittie Winks and 
Bunnie Brown. 


WILLIAM BEVERLEY HARISON 

3 and 5 West J8th Street, New York Gty 
















SIMPLE LESSONS IN THE 


STUDY OF NATURE 

By L G OAKLEY 

This is a handy little book, which many a teacher 
who is looking for means to offer children genuine 
nature study may be thankcul to get hold of. 

Nature lessons, to be entitled to that name, must 
deal with what can be handled and scrutinized at 
leisure by the child, pulled apart, and even wasted. 
This can be done with the objects discussed in this 
book; they are under the feet of childhood—grass, 
feathers, a fallen leaf, a budding twig, or twisted 
shell; these things cannot be far out of the way, even 
within the stony limits of a city. 

Nor are the lessons haphazard dashes at the near¬ 
est living thing; on the contrary, they are virtually 
fundamental, whether with respect to their relation 
to some of the classified sciences, or with reference to 
the development of thought and power of expression 
in the child himself. 

The illustrations are few, and scarcely more than 
figures; it is not meant to be a pretty picture-book, 
yet is most clearly and beautifully printed and ar¬ 
ranged, for its material is to be that out of which pic¬ 
tures are made. It will be found full of suggestions 
of practical value to teachers who are carrying the 
miscellaneous work of ungraded schools, and wb: 
have the unspeakable privilege of dealing with their 
pupils untrammelled by cast-iron methods and account¬ 
keeping examination records. 


Sample copy, 50 Cents, post=paii 


WILLIAM BEVERLEY HaRISON 

3 & 5 W. i 8 th St. - New York City 


r L 

* . n 





“ White paper with blue lines is the 
most trying for the eyes. Writing paper 
should be the color of 4 Old Ivory,’ and 
with dark ruling.” 


This statement was the origin of the now-famous 


old Hour PBcntE ms 


which are in use already in many of the cities 
of the United States, though only manu¬ 
factured for the first time in September, 1896. 

Three Reasons Why Every School Wants Them. 

FIRST —They are Hygienic; others are unhygienic. 

SECOND —They are of better quality than is 

usually furnished. 

THIRD —They are cheaper than other kinds. 


Eight Rulings. Loose sheets or pads; size, 7 x 8^ inches. 
Number 1, Kindergarten. Numbers 2 to 8 for written 
work. Numbers 2, 3, 4, and 5 especially for vertical writing. 


SKMPLES RREB TO KNY TERCHER, 


Special prices to large cities, or schools using lots 

of IOO to 1,000 pounds. 


WILLIAM BEVERLEY HARISON, 

3 and 5 West J8th Street, New York, 

SOLE flANUFACTURER. 






Do you 


Cover your Books? 


THE “ONE PIECE” 
ADJUSTABLE BOOK COVERS 

are made of the strongest and best 
book-cover paper obtainable. This paper 
is made in large quantities especially 
for these book covers and will protect 
books perfectly. The book covers them¬ 
selves are a marvel of ingenuity, and, 
although they are in one piece and 
can be adjusted to fit perfectly any 
sized book without cutting the paper, 
they are also so simple that any boy 
or girl can use them; as they are 
already gummed they are always ready 
for use. 

A sample dozen will be mailed to 
any address for 20 cents (or ten two- 
cent stamps) if you write 

WILLIAM BEVERLEY HARISON 

3 and 5 West t8th Street. New York City 











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